me upstairs, where I had a practice game with one of them. She brought in
dish after dish, and in the end my visit was a long one.
That household of sixteen persons included disciples. Among the
younger professional players, no one else kept four or five disciples in his
house. In that fact was evidence of Otaké’s popularity and affluence, of
course, but perhaps his strongly domestic inclinations and his great
attachment to his own children reached out to embrace these others.
“Sealed in a tin can” during that last match, Otaké would call his wife
immediately at the end of a session.
“Today the Master was good enough to play until …,” and he would give
her the number of the last play.
He reported only so much, offering nothing that might hint at the
progress of the match. I would hear him make his report and think how
much I liked him.
